Anyone that’s traveled with me knows just how obnoxiously loud my alarm is (but you know you secretly love it). It’s especially painful when it goes off at 3:45am. My new roomie, Michelle, tried to throw a punch at me but instead knocked over a water glass. Can’t say I didn’t warn her my alarm was loud…
Full of energy and headlamps in hand, some troopers from my upcoming Intrepid Tour joined me to go climb Lion’s Head for sunrise.Layz was so devoted to coming on the hike that he crashed outside my room on a bean bag…but unfortunately I couldn’t wake him, no matter how hard I tried!
We began our trek up in the darkness, while stopping to admire the beauty that is pre-dawn Cape Town; it looked truly magical. As we climbed through the fog and above the clouds, the views began to look like something out of a fairytale. As darkness turned to dawn, we were at the base of the rock face of Lion’s Head and knew that our only route was up. And so, we started the rock scramble. Racing the rising sun, we scurried up Lion’s Head to make it in time for sunrise. As we scrambled, the clouds began turning shades of pink and we realized that we were seeing the beginning of what looked to be a promising sunrise. We finished the long stretch up right as the sun was about to rise and watched it ascend behind Table Mountain with the clouds hovering below. I must say, it was one of the more beautiful views I’ve ever had the joy of witnessing, and quite rewarding as, for a bit of time, I was afraid that the sun would beat us to the top.
But then something crazy happened. Within a split second, the clouds enveloped the mountain, completely obscuring an outstanding sunrise. Table Mountain just disappeared. Within the mask of cloud, all you could see was a tiny, fuzzy yellow glowing disc. It was as if I was trying to focus on an image of a sun at the eye doctor before he put it into focus. It was hazy in the distance and remarkable to see Table Mountain just vanish piece by piece.
With the sun covered and a thick fog surrounding us, we decided to begin our descent. We were a little worried about completing the scramble backwards, especially since it was slippery, but as long as you go slowly and watch your footing it’s totally fine. After getting past the scramble, all is easy and you’ll be amazed by the views of Cape Town.
Travelers Tip: When descending, turn right at the big tree rather than left – it’s less tough on the knees.
If you’re a hiker and/or in pretty good shape, do yourself a favor and climb Table Mountain via the India Venster Route. It is not for anyone with a fear of heights, or for beginner hikers. I wouldn’t recommend completing it without a guide or a local (thanks Alison!). It’s a stunning hike and must be started as soon as the sun is in the sky because the sun is STRONG!
The India Venster Route is considered the most dangerous and exciting route up Table Mountain. There are three main scrambles and, let me tell you, being only five feet tall is a major disadvantage. Nevertheless, I maneuvered myself up and through the scrambles, and had a blast while doing so. Even though there are only three scrambles, there are many large gaps and high steps. Expect to be on your hands and knees at places. Expect to do some rock climbing and rock scaling without the help of rails. Expect fantastic, rewarding views.
Three hours later, we completed the India Venster Route! Conquering Table Mountain was a powerful feeling, as it looks treacherous from a distance. Once at the top, you’re rewarded with remarkable views and a complete 360 degree view of Cape Town.
Travelers Tip: Take the cable car back down Table Mountain. Not only is it iconic, but the downhill route is steep, dangerous, and tough on your knees.
We awoke to a beautiful view of the Dead Sea and drove to the entrance of Wadi Mujib. Our guide decided not to tell us that we would get soaking wet, so we spent a few minutes scrambling to waterproof our bags. We put on the mandatory life jackets and started hiking. Within a minute, we climbed down a ladder straight into the water in the middle of the canyon walls. In knee-high water we began walking through the canyon, figuring that we were about to have a refreshing and relaxing morning hike. Refreshing, yes. Relaxing, not so much. Next thing we knew, we rounded a corner and realized that we would be hiking against (and up and over) rapids. While it was a blast, it was quite challenging on my hurt shoulders. Thank goodness for my fabulous brother who helped lift me up and pull me over some of the boulders (no thanks to our guide, Ali, who pretty much ignored us).
The water finally started to calm, and we figured that we must have looped and reached the end somehow. Then, we heard what sounded like immense, powerful rapids. Uh-oh. Instead, we turned the corner to find a beautiful waterfall between the canyon walls. We threw our lifejackets to the side and decided to go swim in the waterfall. The power of the falls felt incredible on my very sore shoulders. We crossed under the waterfall and found a small cave; we sat in it and looked out through the waterfall. After a bit of relaxing and free massage therapy, we decided it was time to head to our next destination. We slid down some slippery rocks with the rapids, subsequently getting sucked under the water every few minutes. Since we were going with the current, we later laid on our backs and let the current carry us down the canyon while we floated – so much easier! Even though we were soaked, the minute we exited the water-filled canyon we were dripping with sweat. It was that hot.
We took a short drive to Wadi Hisa for our second canyon hike of the day. Our guide manically drove us through the ins and outs of the canyon so fast that we were fearful that we would collide with the canyon walls. I opened my car door into water up to my thighs! Ali told us that he had to stay in the car to watch our luggage because it wasn’t safe to leave them unattended in an empty car. That should have been our warning sign.
At the time, David and I thought nothing of it and were happy to have some time away from the miserable Ali. We trekked through the water for about ten minutes before we felt like a man was following us. David thought I was being paranoid and that we should give the man the benefit of the doubt. We did. We slowed down and he passed us, but then we heard a group of village teenagers approaching us from behind. They went ahead of us, whispered something to the man in front of us, and began to circle us. They shouted and we ignored their shouts. They asked if we were Israeli. They asked what we were doing. They asked where we were going. Each time, they got closer and closer. At this point we were uncomfortable – we had money, passports, smartphones, and cameras on our bodies – and decided to turn around calmly and head back to the car. They followed us.
Despite trying to avoid a straight path by climbing behind and over various boulders, our scurrying had nothing on the Jordanians. It was, in fact, an environment to which they were accustomed. When one of the guys poked me, that’s when I knew we had to keep moving. We tried to gain speed as they closed in on us. After what felt like ages, we rounded our final bend before reaching the car. A sense of relief overwhelmed us, that is, until we realized our car doors were locked and Ali was not in the car. A few seconds later we saw him praying in a canyon cave. He looked up and saw the boys yelling at us. Ali instantly unlocked the car doors and started screaming at the boys in Arabic. We’re lucky to have been unharmed, but it was too bad that we were unable to explore another beautiful canyon.
Happy to be in a car, we drove about half an hour to a lookout over some of Jordan’s canyons. Here, we ate a disgusting fly-infested lunch…or at least tried to.
It was time to head back to Petra for the night. Along the way, we stopped to look at Jordan’s largest archeological reserve from above. People say that the reserve is 6,000-8,000 years old. The far end of the reserve houses copper mines that King David and King Solomon used way back when.
Ali drove 90 mph (144.8 kph) all the way to Petra on narrow, windy, rocky roads. We arrived in Petra at 3pm and spent the rest of the afternoon unwinding from our eventful, stressful afternoon.
David and I were up early to get ready to cross the border into Jordan. We were given adorable to-go breakfasts and our driver was right on time at 7am. We drove to Israel’s southernmost border with Jordan and waited to cross. While we were waiting we chatted with some Israelis inquiring about birthright and at 8am we were let in the gates.
The passport guy took one look at my passport and screamed “that smile!” He cracked up and showed the other person in the room with him who started laughing. He told me it was a great photo and let us through immediately. There were many different security checkpoints like at an airport. In one of the lines we were talking to the people in front of us who said they’re from NYC and I asked where. One of them said she lived in Chelsea and I mentioned that I used to do trapeze over there. To make a long story short, I knew their daughter and we knew some mutual friends involved with flying trapeze. It really is a small world. After a bit of time we finally crossed the border into Jordan!
We met up with our guide, Mohammed, and bussed for 2.5 hours to Petra. I was exhausted and it was really tough to stay awake during the drive. We pit stopped at a great lookout point and were first exposed to the Arabian feel of Jordan from the clothes to the jewelry to the tchotchkes.
The journey to Petra begins in the Bab as-Siq, a gravel road running alongside Wadi Musa. There are some major monuments on this path, as it is all part of the necropolis, with the two most well-known being the The Obelisk Tomb and Bab as-Siq Triclinium. The Obelisk Tomb (upper half), naturally, contains burial sites. The Bab as-Siq Triclinium (lower half), was used as a dining room where feats were held in honor of the dead.
To reach Petra, you have to walk through the Siq, an immense, breathtaking gorge that make you feel so small and insignificant. It’s insane to think that tectonic forces caused the dramatic split in these rocks. After the split, the waters of Wadi Musa flowed in, which gradually rounded the sharp rock edges into smooth curves. We hopped from shady spot to shady spot all while trying to avoid the horse poop and all the nasty flies that surrounded it.
At one point, Mohammad told us to look up at a tree wedged between the rocks, way high up. We couldn’t see it so he told us to back up. We all backed up and couldn’t see it. Then he told us to look to our left – and there was the Treasury. We gasped. He did such an amazing job of surprising us with that view.
The treasury was built 2000 years ago, and when it was found, it was in perfect shape with the exception of the third pillar. Pretty remarkable.
We continued to walk around Petra, viewing family plots and royal plots. It was all unbelievable. We walked down the beautiful Cardo Maximus on our way to the 900-stair Monastery climb. Keep in mind, it was 108 degrees (42.2 C). We were drenched and dehydrated. I was a bit nauseous from lunch and lack of water, so half of the climb up was pretty miserable. Halfway up I bought another liter and a half of water and felt much better. Our poor legs were getting such a workout.
We made it to the Monastery and were in awe – no one was there, it was just us and this ginormous monument. We were able to climb inside the monastery – David climbed up first to pull me up and John, our new American friend, lifted me up. The inside was really cool – both in the sense of “wow this is neat” and “wow a break from the sun.” To be somewhere so isolated, alone with this gigantic Monastery that was 200 years older than the Treasury, was remarkable. I was in awe.
We decided to climb up to the very top breathtaking viewpoint. We could see the preserved city in broad daylight with the Jordanian flag swaying above us. It was truly amazing.
After completing the Monastery steps, we started on another path to the royal burial site – the site of the most important king after Mohammad. By then it was about 18:00 and starting to get a little shadier, which was a much needed break after 6.5 hours in the sweltering heat. Petra had completely emptied out and we felt like the only people there. We trudged along back to the Treasury to find no one in front of it! It was that much more unbelievable – truly an incredible piece of architecture.
We took off back through the tourist-less gorges and finally made it to our hotel. We were so exhausted, we barely made it to dinner. Halfway through our meal we heard the nightly call to prayers come on the loudspeakers all over the whole city; it was absolutely fascinating.
We began the day at Rosh Hanikra, the ocean swept caves of the Mediterranean. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The Bridge and Railway tunnels at Rosh Hanikra are part of the rail tracks Haifa – Beirut – Tripoli that were established by the British Mandate Government during the Second World War. This was done to connect the Israeli and Lebanese rail networks and to establish a continuous rail network from Egypt via Sinai, Palestine, Lebanon, Syria and Turkey to Europe. Today, the tunnels leading have been sealed for fear of intruders.
The big difference between our birthright experience and other groups was that we had the opportunity to complete the Sea to Sea (Yam l’Yam) trek after finishing up the traditional 10-day experience; we hiked from the Mediterranean Sea to the Sea of Galilee. Upon arriving at Achziv Beach, we were told to choose a rock that we were to carry with us throughout the trek. This rock was meant to remind us why we were setting out on the path – a spiritual journey, a physical journey, a pilgrimage – whatever it may be, this rock was to be our tangible reminder.
The beginning of our hike was beautiful, from Nahal Kziv to Goren Park to Montfort Castle. The hiking was easy enough, but the heat was a killer. Upon arriving at Goren Park we found ourselves trekking up a cliffside then perching ourselves on cliffs overlooking gorgeous forestry.
We went to our campsite and all took part in making dinner. We had a vast array of food – salads, hotdogs, hamburgers, veggies, potatoes, hummus, tahini. After a spectacular sunset, we set up our “beds,” aka a yoga mat and a thin sleeping bag without a pillow, and passed out under the stars. I woke up at 3am to a pack of howling jackals but was so exhausted that I was able to fall right back to sleep.
I awoke with a spider in my hair. Yes, a spider. I was beginning to embrace this new outdoorsy me, although I could do without the spiders. After a nutella-packed breakfast, we visited Hurfesh, a Druze village. We spoke with a member of the community, and he explained that the Druze “believe in all the prophets – Moses, Jesus, and Mohammad.” That days hike was less exciting than the previous day, but fulfilling nonetheless.
The highlight was definitely our visit to the Circassian Village in Rehaniya. While the majority of us unintentionally zoned out (due to fatigue) through the history of the Circassians, we had a delicious homemade meal. We sat down, drank some sweet ginger lemonade, and then an array of food was put in front of us – spicy beets, potato salad, eggplants, carrots, corn salad, warm bread, and noodle soup. We devoured the food, and then learned that that was only our first course. Then they brought out our (entirely dairy-filled) meal – bread stuffed with ricotta (similar to empanadas), something similar to pierogis dipped in a yogurt sauce, and a cheese plate. We could barely move we were so full. But then they brought out some juicy watermelon and we just couldn’t resist.
Stuffed and exhausted, we made our way back to the campsite. By the time we arrived it was pitch black and we had to set up our sleeping areas in the dark. Thanks to Drew, I somehow ended up with a perfectly rockless spot to sleep on. That night was exceptionally cold and, even though I had on sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and a buff wrapped around my neck, I could not get warm. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep, however, the view of the stars above me while I was drifting in and out of consciousness was remarkable.
David and I were some of the first up that morning, and the first thing I saw was someone’s very empty food bags spewed across the entire campsite. Turns out, my darling Casey forgot to tightly secure her food before passing out, so a wild boar got into her food. David then went on to tell me that he heard the wild boar growling next to him while he was trying to sleep; he just went deeper into his sleeping bag and tried not to move until the boar went away.
We left to climb Mt. Meron from our campsite at 7:30am and we were climbing straight uphill from the get-go. A very good morning to us all. It was truly a beautiful hike. When we reached the peak, we had a Hebrew naming ceremony for those that didn’t already have one. I chose “Ezraela” which means “God is my help” and David chose “Raphael” meaning “God has healed.” We, as a group, chanted our names in the direction of Tzfat (remember, it’s one of the four holiest cities).
It was a long path down, and an even longer path to our next campsite. With painful shin splints, parts of the rocky path were tough but manageable. After 9.5 hours of hiking, we finally reached our campsite for the night.
We were greeted with watermelon and more importantly…bathrooms! We had a scrumptious pasta dinner and made s’mores by the fire before passing out early.
David woke me up at 5:30am to watch the sunrise on the final day of our trek. As he nudged me awake, I sleepily sat up and felt something itching my chest. I looked down to find a huge creepy-crawly nuzzled between my boobs! Within seconds I ripped off my sweatshirt and stood there topless laughing at myself (covering myself as much as possible, of course). We got ready, ate breakfast and took off for our fourth, and final, hike.
It was straight downhill for a while, so we moved pretty quickly before coming to a pretty little lake surrounded by some cliffs and ruins. We kept on trudging, entered a valley, and continued our trek. It was uphill for a while, and then we were virtually scaling the rocks which was just incredible. I was loving every second of it. It was brutally hot, to the point where all of the trails got shut down due to the intense heat.
Lucky us, we were stuck in the middle of the trail already and, thus, had to complete it no matter the heat index. We were drenched in sweat, bodies aching, and soaked in the view. When the end was finally in site, some of the group jogged there … until we realized there was a barbed wire fence blocking us in. We couldn’t figure out how to exit the trail. We looked around and realized that the only way out was straight up. So straight up we went. Another fence. This time, the barbed wired fence had a very small hole in it. Well, there was our solution. We crouched down, one by one, and slid through the tiny gap in the barbed wire fence.
We ended at the Sea of Galilee. Remember the rock that we chose four days prior? Here, we threw it in the water. Despite the heatwave, we completed Yam l’Yam and I couldn’t have been more thrilled.
We then relaxed in the hot springs in Tiberias. We immediately went into the mineral water pool, which stung our scrapes from the hike but felt so lovely. From there we jumped in the main pool and ultimately settled in the outdoor mineral pool, which felt like a hot tub. After a relaxing evening, and another great meal, we sat outside to discuss the trek.
Before doing so, we realized it was our guide, Itay’s, 13th birthright trip, so we gave him a Birthright Bar Mitzvah; it was so heartwarming. After a beautiful goodbye sunset, we took off for the hotel and were so excited for our first post-trek shower.
The longest journey begins with a single step, not with the turn of an ignition key. That’s the best thing about walking, the journey itself. It doesn’t much matter whether you get where you’re going or not. You’ll get there anyway. Every good hike brings you eventually back home. Right where you started.
The next morning we went to the Gadot Lookout and Memorial, which was the site of a Syrian military base until 1967. We learned that Eli Cohen, an Israeli spy that infiltrated the Syrian government under the name of Kamel Amin Thaabet, helped enable Israel to easily capture the Golan Heights during the Six Day War. Feigning sympathy, Cohen convinced the Syrian military generals to plant Eucalyptus trees around their bases in order to provide shade from the blazing sun for the soldiers – those huge trees were then used as a target so that, during the Six Day War, the Israeli army knew exactly where the Syrian military bases were when they carried out their air strikes. The Golan was captured within two days. Syrian intelligence eventually caught onto Cohen by tracing his radio transmissions into Israel. He was found guilty of espionage and publicly hanged in the Marjeh Square in Damascus on May 18, 1965; his remains have yet to return to Israel.
The experience of being at the Gadot Lookout, a base that was also surrounded by mines, was really neat. It was strange knowing that we were standing on what used to be Syrian soil, while looking down into an Israeli valley and left to the mountains of Lebanon.
Following the lookout, we hiked through a canyon to Nahal Zavitan. The hike began on a flat path with non-descript surroundings. of a sudden we reached a canyon that was so green and beautiful; the vegetation was amazing. After virtually scaling rocks and walking in little caves, we reached a beautiful oasis with a waterfall and pretty pink flowers. It was hot. We jumped into the river and swam to the waterfall. So refreshing.
Before we were to hang out by the Sea of Galilee, we went to Mount Bental (an inactive volcano) for a panoramic view of the Golan Heights and Mount Hermon. The view was stunning as we looked out into three separate countries: Israel, Syria, and Lebanon. On certain days, one can see and hear explosions happening in Damascus during this horrid civil war. Mount Bental was the site of one of the largest tank battles in history during the 1973 Yom Kippur War, and a key strategic point for the IDF due to its advantageous viewpoint. It was during this war that the Syrians attacked the Golan Heights with 1,500 tanks and 1,000 artillery pieces. Israel only had 160 tanks and 60 artillery pieces. It was the Syrians who retreated in the end; Israel won the Golan. The expansive valley stretching between Mount Bental and Mount Hermon became known as the Valley of Tears, as it was the major battle site during the Yom Kippur War.
That afternoon we were taken to the Cocohut Beach Resort in Tiberias on the Sea of Galilee to go tubing and relax for a while.
Our evening ended with a guest musician – Gilad Vital of Shotei Ha’nevu’ah and Pshutei Ha’am – who told a fascinating story of his youth. Through his music, he discussed his family story. We learned that his grandparents were separately taken to Auschwitz (and killed) during the Holocaust, leaving behind two young children: his father and his aunt. Their babysitter went on to put the two children in a convent so that they would be saved. They were saved, and Vital was born. His songs were emotional, full of both sorrow and passion.
I was up with the sun after a short but deep sleep in the tent, despite virtually sleeping on the ground. We had a quick breakfast and went to our canyon hike at Ein Ovdat. The gorges of the canyon were a different, and welcomed, change of scenery from the desert that surrounds Masada. We had assumed that we were walking through the canyon. And we did…until it was time to go straight up. Through a series of ladders and stairs, we made it to the very top of the canyon and looked down from where we came. It was stunning.
We headed back to the Bedouin tents for our camel trek. The “Four Humps” rocked the caboose of our camel-chain. We trotted along, laughing and joking around for a bit before riding back to the tents.
Can’t say camel riding is the most comfortable experience in the world, but it’s an experience nonetheless. Naturally, I had to take a selfie…
We departed from the Bedouin village and went to Midreshet Sde Boker, the site of Ben Gurion’s grave. He and his wife are buried on the cliff overlooking the Zin Valley. David Ben-Gurion was Israel’s first Prime Minister and is commonly known as Israel’s founding father. On May 14, 1948 it was Ben Gurion who officially proclaimed the establishment of the State of Israel and was the first to sign the Israeli Declaration of Independence. What’s most interesting though is that after retiring from political life in 1970 Ben Gurion moved to Sde Boker, a kibbutz in the Negev Desert, and spent his final years there trying to fulfill his vision of cultivating the Negev.
After a quick falafel for lunch, and the discovery of guaraná in Israel (!!!), we stopped by a goat farm in the Negev, held baby goats, tasted delicious goat cheese, and reflected with the Israelis (as it was our last time gathered as a group).
Honestly, it sucked. It sucked knowing that seven members of our newfound family were leaving, and I felt like the dynamic just wouldn’t be the same after their departure – their presence, smiles, laughs, and viewpoints would all be sorely missed. We hugged them goodbye and waved to them from the bus as we watched them walk away.
We made it to Netanya, and as soon as we arrived we were greeted with an outstanding sunset right outside my bedroom window. I took in the beauty as I reflected on how I already missed my new Israeli friends.
That night we went out in Tel Aviv, and the Israelis just “happened” to show up in the same place at the same time. Hmmm, I wonder how that happened?! 🙂 We all sat around a large table drinking, chatting, and enjoying each others company for what we knew would actually be our last time hanging out together. There was a lot of love and respect going around that table.
We spent the following day in Tel Aviv. We began in Rabin Square, where Yitzhak Rabin, the fifth Prime Minister of Israel, was assassinated in 1995; he was assassinated by a radical right-wing Orthodox Jew who was against the creation and signing of the Oslo Accords (to which he won the Nobel Peace Prize).
We spent the morning wandering around Tel Aviv before ultimately entering Independence Hall – it was at this site that Ben Gurion officially declared the State of Israel on May 14, 1948 (despite being in the midst of a Civil War). The following day began the 1948 Arab-Israeli War. Armies from Egypt, Jordan, Iraq, and Syria all attacked the newly-deemed land of Israel. It wasn’t until 1949 that Israel signed armistices with everyone (Egypt, Lebanon, Jordan, Syria) except Iraq and Palestine.
After learning quite a bit about the creation of the State of Israel, we headed to Jerusalem Beach to relax on the Mediterranean. The water was beautiful and the sun was shining; it was some much-needed downtime.
We boarded the bus to Tiberias, ate, and had a fascinating talk about the West Bank. As I crawled into bed, exhausted, I rolled over to check the time and saw an urgent email from NYU Buenos Aires. I quickly opened it to discover that my tango buddy from my Buenos Aires program, Zake Morgan, had passed away during his travels in Nicaragua; it’s amazing how truly fragile life is. Zake brought laughter and smiles to everyone he interacted with and will be forever missed. I pray that his parents find peace and comfort in these difficult times.
Installment #3: Our grueling trek through Parque Nacional Torres del Paine and up the French Valley, sea kayaking amongst icebergs in glacial waters, and ice climbing on Glacier Grey. Quite a fabulous (and exhausting) father-daughter trip indeed!
The next day we woke up bright and early to hike to the French Valley. Our bodies ached, but we were better prepared mentally. We ate a big, hearty breakfast and stepped outside to another beautifully sunny day. I was thrilled because the path appeared to be a relatively flat hike throughout a burnt down forrest…but I spoke to soon. The path instantly curved uphill fast. From hanging bridges atop glacial white waters, to viewing the actual hanging glaciers, to watching “real life” avalanches, it was all amazing.
When we finally reached the summit after a grueling hike, it was extraordinarily windy and raining thanks to the hanging glaciers directly in front of us. We figured that the descent down would be a breeze (well, all things considered) except for the fact that I desperately had to pee – typical, I know. So dad and I ran ahead of the group trying to make a speedy retreat back to the Refugio, when we realized that we still had to hike 12 km (7.5 miles) back. We hurried as fast as we could for what felt like the longest distance in the world – we put moms speed-walking skills to shame. Hey, at least it kept us from dilly-dallying on the way back. That night we had an incredibly large, delicious dinner, which was definitely needed considering how many calories we were burning.
Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity…
We took a bus from El Calafate to Puerto Natales, where we would begin our real Patagonia adventure, aka Parque Nacional Torres del Paine. I really wanted to challenge myself and test my physical ability and so we took off to do the W-Trek. The forecast said that it would be rainy and in the 40s (4 C) everyday and, just as we expected, we woke up the first morning to pouring rain. We met up with our lovely guide, Micky, and drove to the park, hoping and praying that it would both clear up and warm up, as we had a lot of trekking ahead of us. Well, as soon as we entered the park the sun broke through and we were blessed with a clear blue sky. We quickly checked into the Refugio and were told by the staff that it was the first day in six days that they were actually able to see the top of the towers in the distance – so amazing. And thus, we began our entirely uphill journey to the towers. I knew it would be a tough hike, but I had no idea just how hard it would be. My shoulders started bothering my pretty early on unfortunately, but I am so thankful for my wonderful father who was able to be my porter for the day. We took it slow, really feeling every step we took and stopped frequently to drink the fresh water – yes, I actually drank water and enjoyed it. All the while, we were trying to take in the outstanding sights in between our panting. It’s incredible how strong the wind is up there – there were times when I legitimately couldn’t take a step forward despite how hard I tried due to the wind.
After 4.5 hours hiking uphill we finally reached the towers, and the skies were still crystal clear. They were so incredible, such an unfathomable natural beauty that I was blessed to be able to witness with my dad by my side.
The next morning we didn’t have time to whitewater raft, so we decided to climb the world’s second highest active volcano, Cotopaxi, to the 5000 meter (16,000 feet) mark. We were warned that it would be windy at the volcano, but it definitely was not stressed enough. Upon arriving, I stepped out of the car and was immediately blown back; I could barely walk forward, and barely breathe, and the wind was stronger than anything I have ever felt. The climb lasted an hour, fifteen minutes, and my grandpa said that was more difficult than running a marathon (mind you, he has run six marathons). The ground was all loose ash, so every two steps only accomplished one. We had to stop every ten meters to catch our breath though, and at first I believed that I was just much more out of shape than I had thought, until I realized that we were at a much higher altitude than my body was used to. The views from the top were amazing – we were higher than the clouds! Descending, on the other hand, took only twenty minutes and I finally got the hang of going downhill!
The Five Foot Traveler 
